


Dreams Beneath the Moon

by LlamaLlamaNewt



Series: Literary Composition/ Composicion Literaria [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Magic Realism, POV First Person, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LlamaLlamaNewt/pseuds/LlamaLlamaNewt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is on his hands? His face? His body?  What is real? Was it a dream, or reality? Why does his mouth taste like blood....?</p><p> </p><p>He wakes up - or did he? As a werewolf. Maybe. He's unsure. Was it just a dream?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams Beneath the Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Sueños debajo de la luna](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526852) by [LlamaLlamaNewt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LlamaLlamaNewt/pseuds/LlamaLlamaNewt). 



> Written for my literary composition class. It was supposed to be in the style of Juan Emar (El pajaro verde, Chuchezuma) and Roberto Arlt (El jorobadito, Del que no se casa). It ended up being more in the style of Poe (Tell Tale Heart) and Faulkner (A Rose for Emily). 
> 
> It's not quite grotesque like it was supposed to be, but rather gritty, and dark. There is no explicit gore or sexual contact, but rather both are heavily insinuated. 
> 
> If either of those things might be a problem for you, please reconsider reading this.

Dreams beneath the moon

 

I wake up. I don't know where I am. I'm wet. It's not water. It’s red, and sticky. It smells like sweat and copper.

 

How did I come to be here?

 

I remember pain and hunger. A strong pain, like nothing I have ever felt before.

 

I remember running, the earth passing quickly beneath my feet and hands. My hands?

 

She runs in front of me. I chase her.

 

The earth is soft and damp beneath my paws. I feel free.

 

She runs through the forest and I chase her. She is fast, but I am hungry. Her desperation to live doesn't win against my need to eat.

 

Her skin is soft in my mouth. Her cries are soft, almost silent.

 

Her breathing slows, while mine speeds up. She lets her breath out with a sigh. Hot liquid enters my mouth, coats my tongue.

 

I wake up. I'm in my bed, my wife at my side. I am wet. It smells like sweat. I remember the taste of copper.

 

I remember her running in front of me, fast and strong. The rabbit I chased in my dreams. But I also remember my wife beneath my hands, her heart beating rapidly.

 

I don't know what's real. Through the open curtain I can see the sky. The wind shifts the clouds, and the full moon enters my vision.

 

My skin itches. I want to yell at the night sky, and the full moon.

 

The room is dark I am afraid to turn on the light, to look at my wife, to look at my hands.

 

Will I see blood or sweat on my skin?


End file.
